


Let Your Fingers Do the Walking

by MissMorwen



Series: BuckyNat Prompts [19]
Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel 616, Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Bucky Barnes's Metal Arm, Established Relationship, F/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Shameless Smut, Tumblr Prompt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-24
Updated: 2016-09-24
Packaged: 2018-08-17 02:04:02
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,774
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8126185
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MissMorwen/pseuds/MissMorwen
Summary: It’s not a Pavlovian response because Natasha doesn’t react every time she hears the sound. It’s mostly when they’re within their bedroom or when they’re alone or when she’s been thinking about James and beautiful mouth and long fingers and even longer and more beautiful cock. And maybe a few other situations, but that’s beside the point. It’s just that under those very specific circumstances then his left arm gets a stronger response from her than his right does. An aphrodisiac if you like, adding to situations already on the hot and heavy side.***********Buckynat Prompt: Metal arm smut please.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Title from the Sort Sol song of the very same name.

It’s not a Pavlovian response because Natasha doesn’t react every time she hears the sound. It’s mostly when they’re within their bedroom or when they’re alone or when she’s been thinking about James and beautiful mouth and long fingers and even longer and more beautiful cock. And maybe a few other situations, but that’s beside the point. It’s just that under those very specific circumstances then his left arm gets a stronger response from her than his right does. An aphrodisiac if you like, adding to situations already on the hot and heavy side.

So it’s not a problem because it’s never caused a problem for her before. Except that James has somehow found her out and has decided to use it against her. (She suspects it was last week when he used his left hand to finger her and she bit him hard enough to cause bruises him when she came.)

He leans over to whisper in her ear, “I’m going to make you come so hard you see stars,” and stretches in a way that makes his arm emit a low whine. And puts his hand on her thigh. His goddamn metal hand.

If they hadn’t been sitting at a meeting Natasha would probably said something filthy to him, and done something even filthier to him. But they are sitting at a meeting, a very important one that has been in the making for a couple of months too and she can’t very well leave to go fuck James’ brain out. Though she very much wishes she could.

James, however, seems intent on testing her multitasking abilities.

He doesn’t move for the first long while, then the second she relaxes, he slides his hand half an inch up her thigh. The nerve of the fucker. It’s not exactly the most exciting kind of foreplay, it’s more the anticipation of what follows that has her squirming in her seat.

Also Steve is sitting right there. Right across the table. If he turns his head even slightly, he’ll be able to see. As is Wanda, sweet, caring Wanda, who does not deserve to witness their fucked up and very public display of affections. (If you can call it that, his fingers are inches from touching where she wants them the most and why the fuck doesn’t he move them?)

So when someone calls for a break Natasha doesn’t drag him to the nearest empty room, because she does have a little self-control. Instead she wastes three whole seconds of an already short break to stare James down, walks calmly to a meeting room that doesn’t share a wall with the currently occupied one, and flips the sign outside it to ‘in use’, expecting him to follow. (He does. He’s a bastard, but not an evil bastard.)

“I hate you,” she says, fists her hands into his tee, and uses his back to close the door behind them.

“I know,” he says and brushes an invisible strand of hair away from her face. Using his left hand.

He doesn’t even have the common decently to kiss her before he puts that hand back between her legs. With her pants and underwear there’s really far too much fabric in the way of the full experience, but that’s not really the point. The point is to make her suffer and she is not having it. Releasing her grip on his tee to wrap her arms around his neck, Natasha wipes the grin off his face with her mouth.

James’ mouth is hard and hot on hers so thankfully she’s not the only one getting off on this.

When she releases him, the first thing she says is, “Thirteen minutes till meeting’s back on.”

“Better make it count,” he replies and wraps his right arm around her waist, lifting her off the ground.

He usually did this move with his left arm and the following shuffle is a bit awkward as they try to figure out how to have her stay suspended without her insides getting mashed in the process. Her wrapping her legs around his hips apparently isn’t the answer, because he carries her to the conference table and sets her down. While she’s making the time count by kissing him greedily, he somehow manages to unbutton her jacket and pull her top and bra up without looking.

Natasha leans back willingly when he breaks the kiss and closes his lips around one nipple. Her fingers are already in his hair before she realizes that if they’re to look presentable again, she probably shouldn’t have. But that’s really more James’ problem than hers. Especially since hers is more along the line of not making an indecent sound when his left hand touches her bare waist.

And has he installed a cooler in his arm, because his fingers are still cool despite having been buried in her crotch for the past hour? Give or take an hour. They should be warmer in any case. Shouldn’t they?

She doesn’t reach a decision because his left index finger brushes her unattended nipple. It is, of course, harder than his flesh and blood fingers, but it’s also smoother and the lack of friction sort of makes up for the unexpected hardness. It also has three close siblings that are brushed over her nipple in turn.

Reaching for his cock has Natasha pushing her breast rather aggressively into his face, but luckily he doesn’t seem to mind. And she gets to do something more interesting than just sprawling on her back while he’s working her over. She loves that bit very much, but it’s always so much better when she gets to run her fingers down the fat outline of his cock. Even with the jeans in the way.

James calls her accessibility into question by fumbling with her belt and apparently it poses a much larger problem than her other clothes. He even has to straighten up to unbuckle and open her pants. (Natasha suspects that this is also an excuse for him to move out of her fingers' range, because she had almost managed to open his jeans without looking.) A bit of team work is necessary before they shift her pants down over her hips. Then he mostly just steadies her as she pulls one leg free of the tight pant leg. Every second counts when you only have eleven minutes left.

“This is really unhygienic,” she says gesturing at her naked rear on the conference table. “And unfair. You’re still fully dressed.”

“I’m just trying to keep my promise, is all. Since you seem to like my arm so much, I’d let you enjoy the full extent of it. And we’ll clean it afterwards.”

“Yeah, your arm is great, but I’m going to have to insist on your dick being involved at some point.”

“Now that _would_ be unhygienic.”

She shrugs. “You’ll clean it afterwards.”

She doesn’t get to clarify if by it she meant the table or his dick, but he doesn’t really seem that interested now that he has free access to the place he’s been trying to get near the last long while.

And holy fuck, he slides two fingers into her without any preamble and it’s all she can do not to moan loudly enough to be heard several rooms over. They are smooth and segmented inside her in a way she hadn’t known until recently she’d be able to differentiate. They’re also slowly driving her mad.

He draws them out slowly and shifts his hand on the way back in, rubbing his thumb against her overly sensitive and thoroughly under stimulated clit. She jerks her hips against him, biting her lip not to cry out. He speeds up after that, pumping his fingers inside her until he has her gasping for air.

James is probably enjoying the view of her sprawled on the table, but Natasha doesn’t really care. She hauls herself upright, captures his head between desperate fingers and then his mouth with a hungry kiss, intent on having him breathing just as hard. She doesn’t last long after that and he swallows her moans as built up tension finally releases.

He holds her until the world quiets down, until she’s able to think again, then he removes his fingers, brings them to his mouth, and slowly sticks his tongue out to taste her slick on them.

The complete and utter bastard.

Luckily he doesn’t protest when Natasha flips open his pants. She frees his cock and it is hot and heavy in her hand. A finger pressing along the side of it tells her his pulse is beating fast too. Not as fast as hers, but still.

“Seven minutes.” Her service announcement announced, she guides him to her entrance, her heels pushing into the small of his back to urge him forward. Hissing as he follows her guidance, nerves still buzzing from the recent orgasm.

“Natalia,” he gasps when he’s all the way inside. (A victory if she ever saw one and a clear indication of how much of his calm is bullshit.)

He holds her hips steady with mismatched hands and begins to move. He probably regrets not having removed his tee, because one of her fingernails is long enough to punch through it when she grabs it for leverage. She barely notices it.

Slow and sweet has its time and its place and right now isn’t it. He drives into her hard and fast and deep and she bites his shoulder to not moan with each thrust. He’s not faring much better, she will have bruises on her hips in the morning. (Will the ones on her right be more visible? That hand is stronger after all.)

He slips a hand between them and to the surprise of no one ever, it’s the left one. The right one would probably have worked just as well at this point, but she has to give him points for being an overachiever in the best way possible. _Her_ overachiever.

She comes apart when his thrusts become erratic, desperate. They somehow both manage not to make a single sound.

“Four minutes,” she says when she can breathe again.

“How many times do you think I’d be able to make you come in four minutes?”

As it turns out, enough to ensure that her legs shake when they walk back to the meeting, yet not as many times as he counts on. Because with his short refraction period she is more or less legally obligated to make him come again, too. And if she isn’t, she should be, that much she knows for sure.


End file.
